


Five Times It Was Magic (Sex)

by Merit



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Ghost Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Sex Magic, Size Difference, Size Kink, Throne Sex, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merit/pseuds/Merit
Summary: Five magical trysts.





	1. Eliot and the Saga of his Rapidly Expanding Trousers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lionessvalenti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/gifts).



Quentin swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with alarming alacrity as he took in Eliot’s spell-changed physique.

“These were my favorite trousers,” Eliot said with a heavy sigh, collapsing dramatically against an overstuffed sofa, raising one hand to his forehead in mute distress. His trousers, barely clinging to his hips, his thighs, tore further, revealing a dangerous amount of flesh.

“Did they say how long it would last?” Quentin said, wincing at the high pitched nature of his voice.

“A spell to make me ⅛ bigger than normal,” Eliot said, shrugging his shoulders, the fine lines of his silk shirt tearing slightly, a flash of nipple causing Quentin's mouth to water. “How delightfully minor.”

“So they said nothing about how long it would last?” Quentin asked, biting his lip, averting his eyes. 

Eliot’s gaze snapped to Quentin. He stared at Quentin with dark, hooded eyes. “You like this…” He said, almost wondering. “You really like this.”

“I’ve always liked bigger guys,” Quentin said thickly, averting his eyes, but he couldn’t stay away from Eliot’s thighs, his shoulders, the bulge in his barely there trousers.

“Hmm,” Eliot said, spreading his legs, the bulge in his torn trousers growing bigger. Quentin’s mouth was dry and he licked his lips quickly. “Why don’t you show me, Quentin?” Eliot said darkly, the words wrapping around Quentin like a lasso. He fell to his knees, crawling to Eliot, eyes intent on Eliot’s cock.

Eliot’s played with the silver buttons of his trousers, threads already coming askew.

Quentin placed his hands on Eliot’s knees, fingers seemingly dwarfed. He leaned forward, lips pink and wet, closing his eyes. Quentin opened his mouth, breathing in deep, burying his nose in the contour between Eliot’s thigh and cock.

“This is… good, Quentin,” Eliot said, threading his fingers through Quentin’s hair, running a finger down jawline, tilting his chin up. He’d always had long fingers, but now… he slipped a finger between Quentin’s lips, Quentin sucking him hard. “But if my trousers don’t come off very soon, I’m going to have these buttons embedded in my cock.”

“Another time,” Quentin said, mouthing at his trousers. Eliot bit at his lower lip, thrusting up into Quentin mouth. Then with exquisite grace, Quentin unbuttoned his trousers with his mouth alone.

Eliot raised one curious brow.

“I spent a lot of college in dorm closets,” Quentin said, shrugging, which really raised more questions for Eliot but - then Quentin took his cock in his mouth and Eliot groaned, thrusting lazily between Quentin’s lips. He’d ask Quentin about that _later_.

The sensations were the same, but he supposed a tongue sliding down his cock slit was fairly comparable even if his dick was bigger.

“Quentin,” Eliot said tightly. “If this didn’t feel so good, I might develop a complex over being inadequate for you.”

Quentin moaned around Eliot’s cock, drawing him deeper into his mouth. His lips were stretched obscenely, more so than usual, around Eliot’s cock. There was a vivid flush infused across his cheeks, eyelids wetly caressing the soft skin under his eyes. He’d look like a delight. A peach that only Eliot got to pluck.

“I can live with this though,” Eliot said, squeezing his eyes shut, biting his lip.


	2. Marina, the Uncrowned Queen

“Don’t tell me you never thought about it,” Marina said, circling one of the thrones, her heels clacking one the stone floor. She smiled, slow and sultry, dark lips revealing a hint of sharp white teeth. Her long hair framed her face sweetly and Julia could almost imagine her browsing through the Brakebills library shelves before she had been summarily expelled.

Julia raised one brow.

“Oh as a child?” Marina said, leaning back against the throne, breasts thrust out. She always wore push up bras, something Julia had discovered rifling through her lingerie draws, trying to find a spell or an enchantment. Marina had been furious at the time. Burnt all of Julia's underwear to a crisp, fine ashes all that was left for her finest silk and lace. Hadn't she had fun explaining that disaster. “Never imagined one of the kings or queens taking you on the throne?" Marina pressed her lips together, a dark line of temptation. "I was always partial to Rupert Chatwin. A wounded warrior... But as I grew older, I started to lust after the Watcherwoman. Can't you imagine controlling time? What a thrill!”

“I think we had very different childhoods,” Julia said dryly, but she walked forward two steps, hips swinging.

“Undoubtedly,” Marina said, rolling her eyes, pouting, “You, a princess in her tower, besieged by all the nerd-boys of New York.”

Julia laughed. It was an almost-truth. “Oh you think you know everything, Marina. But what was Marina like? Before Brakebills?”

“We could discuss that,” Marina said, accent decidedly not shifting, short skirt sliding up her hips as she spread her legs. And Julia was reminded that almost everyone who went to Brakebills was fucked up in some way. And Brakebills could only fuck them up further. “But I’m not wearing any panties, so.”

“Oh, another time,” Julia said, sinking to her knees. Marina’s thighs were already tense, goosebumps zipping up her thighs, a reaction Marina would never comment on. Julia breathed in, tasting Marina on her tongue. She reached out, fingers sliding up Marina’s thighs, nails raking because Marina liked it rough.

Liked to see the marks there the next day.

She pushed the skimpy skirt further up. She gazed, thumbs tracing the thin skin of Marina’s thighs.

“A lightning bolt,” Julia said, laughing.

“Fuck yes. Sirius never should have died,” Marina said, tossing her hair back.

“I thought you would have been a Slytherin,” Julia said, breathing in Marina. She leaned closer, rocking on her heels.

“Obviously,” Marina said, bringing one leg up to ease her access. “But Sirius was hot.”

“Hmm,” Julia said, dipping in her fingers into Marina, sliding the wetness across the lightning bolt, til the hair glistened in the throne room.

The first taste was always electric. Marina was silky soft and oh so wet under the delicate touch of her tongue. Julia could barely restrain herself from just diving in.

She let her nails, painted a vibrant plum, dig into Marina’s thighs. Leaving white crescent moons that flared before turning a soft pink.

“You’re so gentle, Julia,” Marina said, threading her fingers through Julia’s hair, twisting through her curls, pulling til tears sprouted at the corners of Julia’s eyes. But, fuck, it only made her wet. Julia moaned against Marina' clit, her thighs shaking, muscles tensing.

She played with Marina’s clit, making it bigger, sucking at it, fingers diving deep into Marina. Faster and faster, not caring if the edge of her nail caught on Marina, if anything that made Marina moan and twist against the throne with even more fervor. A dark angel descended to Fillory.

When Marina came it was sudden, no warning, her thighs clenching around Julia’s head. Julia’s fingers squeezed, as Marina spasmed and thrust down on her. She arched her back, her head resting at the head of the throne, the light hitting her hair like a crown. Then she sighed, shuddering, wetness flowing down Julia’s fingers, staining her mouth.

“I had better clean you up,” Marina said, breathily, her eyes dancing as she beheld Julia.


	3. Alice Gets Her (Magic) Back

Alice shivered, shifting against the soft faded sheets. The spark of magic, like a tiny dash of lightning, danced playfully up her arm.

“Quentin!” She said, half impatiently, a fury within her never far away. “You know I’m ticklish there.”

“I know,” he said, threading his fingers through hers. “Do you remember when we spent a whole afternoon exploring our bodies together? After Brakebills South? The sun was warm and yellow and your room was filled with the smell of us after.”

Alice swallowed, fingers in her free hand clenching at the sheets, knuckled white.

“After you left,” a pause, because she hadn’t left, she’d become a Niffin and she still ached for for the clarity. She’d never had to worry about breathing, the heavy pull of her lungs, in the deepest, darkest corners of space. “I came here. I wanted to smell us again,” and he pressed a kiss against her fingers, magic sliding between their flesh. The spark went down to her toes, curled against the sheet. “Do you remember?”

“I remember many things,” Alice said. “I remember sliding a knife of pure energy between the ribs of a newborn star. I watched it die and a whole solar system of potential death wail.”

Quentin huffed, a puff of warm air against her wrist. “You didn’t used to be quite this dramatic, Alice,” he said affectionately, magic running up her arm with every word. He tugged out the sheets, asking for her permission.

Alice paused.

Then she let him pull the sheets down.

The air was cold against her skin, her nipples puckering as Quentin pressed against kisses against the side of her breast, star bursts of magic flaring in his wake. She shivered, crossed her legs, moaning lowly.

Quentin chuckled against her side, the throaty sounds reverberating against her skin. He traced a pattern against her skin on her hip, her mind racing to try identify it.

“You’re still thinking, Alice,” he murmured, fingers trailing down her thighs, thumb teasing her clit.

Everything had been so clear when she was a Niffin.

Alice sat up abruptly.

“Then make me lose my mind, Quentin,” she gasped, eyes flashing. Their gaze met. Quentin’s pupils flaring til they seemed more black than real.

“Anything you say, Alice,” he said thickly, two fingers teasing at her entrance, sliding wetly over her.

“I don’t want gentle,” she said, and he fucked her with his fingers, sliding deep inside, before crooking his fingers. She shivered, grinding her hips down on his hand. He bit his lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” she gasped, rocking back on forth, shaking as he added another finger.

“Fuck it,” he gasped, and she stilled, his fingers still thrusting into her. She held her breath, half way to something that made her thighs clench. “Fuck my mouth, Alice.”

“Okay,” she breathed out, his fingers sliding wetly out of her, her thumb stroking her clit a fond farewell.

He smiled at her, yellow magic flashing across his lips, as she steadied herself. Knees bracing his shoulders, his hands on her hips, his mouth open.

When his tongue touched her, a tiny lick, she shivered. Then she thrust down, into his mouth, his fingers tracing distracting patterns - a star system, a mathematics theorem - against her hips.

Alice moaned, biting her lip, hands braced against the bed. The wood creaked under her fingers, the wood bending into her touch.

His tongue delved into her, eager and greedy, thrusting into her, fucking her until she was gasping. She felt the blood rush to her face, the steady build between her thighs. Quentin didn’t stop and she didn’t want him to. Magic

She shook, coming, forgetting everything.


	4. The Ghost of Penny's Dick

She wasn’t intentionally fucking with him. She was just rolling the coin between her fingers, not really paying attention.

“Margo.”

She jerked her head up, head turning around, the coin dropping out of her fingers and rolling impotently to the ground. Sheepishly she picked it up and Penny flashed back into sight.

“The fuck,” he said, laying out his hands in front of her. He’d always had such long fingers, and in the past, she’d idly wondered what it would be like to be fucked by them. Such a long, lean slice of man.

She rolled her eye. “Hello,” she said, waving to her face. “My depth perception isn’t what it used it be.”

His gaze flickered between her eye and the eye patch she was wearing. Some gold and leather monstrosity but she wasn’t going to wear a medical eye patch. _She_ had decided this. _She_ had bargained with a Fairy Queen.

“And I’m dead,” he said, like it was something new she didn’t know.

She sighed. “I guess we all have problems,” she said, dryly. She placed the coin on her bare midriff, shivering at the cool metal.

“I don’t remember you being that sympathetic when I lost my hands,” he said, waving those long gorgeous fingers in front of her face. “Something about wiping my own ass?”

“I stand by that statement,” Margo said, leaning back on the couch. “Though being dead is… not great. I mean, stuck wearing that outfit for the rest of eternity?” She shuddered. “I’d die.”

“I’m already dead.”

“I’d die again.”

Penny huffed, crossing his arms across his chest and looking at her disdainfully. He could be such a priss sometimes, Margo thought. The Physical House was quiet. It had never been quiet as long as Margo had lived there; always some explosion, someone fucking. It disturbed her. Fucking loss of magic was such a mood killer.

“So can you jerk off? Or are you stuck as a celibate monk for the rest of eternity?” Margo said, settling more comfortably in the couch.

“I haven’t tried,” Penny said, turning red around his ears.

Margo whistled. “Damn. I would be a tight ball of tension if I couldn’t rub it out at… oh at least every few days.”

“I’ve had a few things on my mind,” Penny said. “Dying, becoming a ghost, my soul still chained to those Library motherfuckers.”

“Still? Geez they need to get a life,” Margo said, hand sliding under her skirt.

“I’m trying to get my own,” Penny said. “Wait, are you getting off now?”

“Mmm, yes,” Margo said. “This whole conversation,” she waved her hand around, before cupping a breast, squeezing at a nipple, letting the sensation cascade down her body, “Was such an inspiration.”

Penny gaped at her. “Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I’m not here.”

“I know,” Margo said, jerking her head in his direction, “You’re getting hard watching me get off.”

Penny covered his dick defensively. “It is a natural reaction,” he muttered.

“I’m not angry, dude,” Margo said. “Why don’t you jerk yourself off? Make this a double feature.”

Penny stayed on the fence for about two seconds, before he sighed, shrugged his shoulders and unzipped his trousers.

His dick sprang out, long and lean, just like Margo had expected. She licked her lips in appreciation.

“I suppose the boxers or briefs question has been answered,” Margo murmured, sliding a finger inside of herself, teasing herself now she had an active audience. “Neither.”

Penny was quick and efficient, the head of his dick, disappearing under his hand. He bit his lip, eyes half closed.

“I thought this was supposed to be a show,” he said, voice dropping a couple octaves. She shivered, her panties getting wetter.

“Hold your horses,” she said, keeping the coin pressed against her skin as she shimmied out of her top and dragged her panties down to her knees. Arching back, tossing her hair, she smiled sweetly at Penny as she opened her legs. She let him get a good view, his eyes darkening, the head of his cock glistening, before she thrust two fingers into herself.

“Damn girl,” Penny drawled, raking her body appreciatively. His smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as he kept up the frantic pace around his dick, curving ever higher to his stomach.

And god, she wished he was alive so he could put that mouth to good use, make her so wet that she was gushing down his chin and then he’d take her roughly and give her the fucking she needed after months of magic less Fillory.

“Um,” Penny said.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Margo said, shrugging. “Fuck, I needed this,” she murmured, as she came around her fingers.

When Penny came, his semen lingered in the air, before disappearing slowly, light fracturing.

“I hope we don’t get any ghost babies,” Margo said, grinning as a look of horror descended on Penny’s face.


	5. Omnis Futuit

“You must have seen the way I have looked at you,” Julia said, mind still rattling from the wine.

“Yes,” Kady said, simply, already unbuttoning Julia’s floral blouse. “Since you were a half trained brat following Marina around.”

Julia laughed, tossing her hair back, smiling at Kady. “We should have done this… months ago?” She said, frowning. “Wow this has been a really intense period of my life.”

Kady dropped to her knees. “Do you really want to think about that right now?”

Julia tilted her head to the side. “Hm, no.”

 

“When you died, one of my first thoughts was that we should have had sex,” Quentin said, hands gripping the sheets. "Have you ever really had like fucking magnificent hate sex? I always thought I would have that with you."

Penny sighed, three fingers into Quentin. He twisted them, hitting the spot that made Quentin squirm and twist and pant heavily.

“You’re a mouthy fucker even when you’re getting fucked,” Penny sighed.

“Technically you’re not fucking me, yet,” Quentin said, bright pink spots on his cheeks.

“Was that an invitation?”

“Oh fuck yes,” Quentin said. His dick jerked as Penny slid inside him.

 

Margo shivered.

Licking her lips, Alice emerged from between Margo’s thighs.

“Where…” Margo paused, trying to reconcile her thoughts together, trying to segment things so actual coherent words could come out. “Where did you learn to do that? You’re like basically a virgin.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Just because I wear brogues and glasses - ”

“And glasses. You’re like a total nerd,” Margo said. “A total babe and I like fucking with nerds because they’re so adventurous. But I didn’t think about you.”

“If I wasn’t a Magician, I’d be a scientist,” Alice murmured, sliding a finger back into Margo. She met no resistance, Margo sighing deeply. “I’m dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. All knowledge.”

“Ah,” Margo murmured, reaching out and pulling Alice for a kiss, dirty and wet, all tongue and teeth, til they were both breathless.

“And that knowledge includes cunnilingus,” Alice said so primly that Margo wanted to hit her. She also wanted Alice to fuck her again.

So they did.

 

Eliot insisted on the cowboy hat.

“This has always been a fantasy of mine,” he murmured, pressing kisses up Penny’s thigh, dragged his teeth, wrapping his mouth around Penny’s cock.

“I’m not that type of Indian,” Penny said, thrusting into Eliot’s mouth.

Eliot pulled back. “It is more about the fantasy,” he said. “If we only had some chaps around here but I left everything good back on Earth.”

“I think I preferred it when you had a cock in your mouth,” Penny said, rolling his eyes.

“What if I was riding you?” Eliot said with a wicked grin, running a hand through his curls, before placing the cowboy hat on his head.

“I could be convinced,” Penny said, spreading his legs, cock bobbing eagerly between his thighs.

“Mm,” Eliot groaned, the muscles on his thighs lighting up as he lowered himself. “Yee fucking haw!”

 

Alice smiled prettily, glasses propped at her end of her nose. Her hair was pulled back slightly, a dark clip stark against her blonde hair. Otherwise she was completely naked, rosy pink nipples tightening in the brisk air.

“Baby, have you been waiting for me?” Penny said.

“Too long, Penny,” she murmured, legs spreading, and she was pink there too and wet. Her thighs stained.

Penny was already hard and he wanted nothing more than to drive his dick deep inside her.

“It does look like you have been keeping yourself occupied,” he murmured, running a hand through her hair, jerking as she bit as the fleshy bit of his palm, white teeth flashing.

“Oh?” Alice said, tilting her head.

“Those two,” Penny said, jerking his head to the bed, where an exhausted Margo and Quentin had passed out, limbs lazily arranged around each other. The room stank of the sex that must have happened just before Penny arrived.

“They couldn’t keep up,” Alice said, raising one shoulder dismissively.

“I can,” Penny said, smirking.

He couldn’t, but Kady would try next.

 

“Is it just me,” Eliot said, “Or have we all been having more sex than usual?”

The group considered it. Julia and Kady continued to make out.

“I don’t think so?” Quentin said slowly, hand stroking Eliot’s thigh, before he turned to kiss Margo. Alice had her face buried between Margo’s tits, moaning as she mouthed a nipple.

“Hm,” Eliot shrugged, as Penny smirked up at him and then swallowed him whole. “I can be wrong,” he said tightly.

 

They later traced it to a barrel of Fillorian wine that induced feelings of lust. After the effects wore off, Eliot made a special order for it again.


End file.
